The Lake

r, when he was a boy, often walked out by himself from Tinnick to see the hollyhocks and the sunflowers; they overtopped the palings,

lets and pansies he saw before he went away to Maynooth. He never remembered seeing the garden in bloom again. He was seven years at Maynooth, and when he came home for his vacations it was too late

town of Tinnick, for he cared nothing for Ireland and was said to be a man of loose living, in love with his friend's wife, who came to Tinnick for visits, sometimes with, sometimes without, her husband. It may have been his Lordship's absenteeism, as well as the scandal the lady gave, that had prompted a priest to speak against Lord Carra from the altar, if not directly, indirectly. 'Both are among the gone,' Father Oliver said to himself. 'No one speaks of them now; myself hasn't given them a thought this many a year-' His memories broke off suddenly, for a tree had fallen, carrying a large portion of the wall with it, but without revealing the house, only a wooded prospect through which a river glided. 'The Lord's mistress must have walked many a time by the banks of that river,' he said. But why was he thinking of her again? Was it the ugly cottage that put thoughts of her into his mind? for she had done nothing to alleviate the lives of the poor, who lived without cleanliness and without light, like animals in a den. Or did his thoughts run on that woman, whom he had never seen, because Tinnick was against her and the priest had spoken slightingly of the friends that Lord Carra brought from England? The cause of his thoughts might be that he w

nder linden-trees, and there were usually some boys seated on the parapet fishing. He would have liked to stop the car, so re

grocer, and a little higher up the inn at which the commercial travellers lodged. He recalled their numerous leather trunks, and for a moment stood a child again, seeing them drive away on post-cars. A few

ebt he owed to the Church. It was in patience rather than in pity maybe that he was lacking; and pursuing this idea, he recalled the hopes he entertained when he railed off a strip of ground in front of Bridget Clery's house. But that strip of garden had inspired no spirit of emulation. Eliza was perhaps more patient than he, and he began to wonder if she had any definite aim

g clear voices of nuns singing a Mass by Mozart must sooner or later inspire belief in the friendliness of pure air and the beauty of flowers. Flowers are the only beautiful things within the reach of these poor people. Roses all may have, and it was pleasant to think that

It was a pity. Mrs. O'Mara's scandalous stories, insinuating lies, had angered him till he could bear with her no longer, and he had put her out the door. He didn't believe that Eliza had ever said she could give Nora more tha

If something had prevented him from preaching on Sunday! A bad cold might have prevented him from speaking, and she might have gone away for a while, and, when her baby was born, she might have come back. It could have been easily arranged. But fate had ordered her life otherwise, and here he w

you do,

through Mary's heavy white face. Her eyes were smaller than his, and she already began to raise them and lower them, and to look at him askance, in just the way he hated. Somehow or other she always contrived to make him feel uncomfortable, and the present occasion

thought you might like to see me, and if I hadn't come at o

d to himself, and he hoped that her confidences m

ntly. I met Sister Agatha in the passage, and said I would take the message myself. I suppose I o

is

she likes me to

ear M

t is to live in a convent, and

t, and that you were especially fortunate. And as for thinki

sure I'm

son could

ussed. You know, I suppose, that the building of th

t; so why s

the visitors. Now, do you think that qu

special woes, for the most part imaginary, to a visitor. Nor would Mary refrain from touching on the Reverend Mother's shortcomings. He was so much amused that he might have smiled if it had not suddenly come to his mind that Mary might leave the convent and insist on living with him; and a little scared he began to think of what he could say to

have thought of all this

my final vows t

n has taken the black veil ...

e there would be no

hat you're thinking of l

inking of writing to you, but I hoped that you would come

l, M

was furious with me because I stopped at confession a few minutes longer than usual. "I think," she said, "you might spare Fa

at are you thin

s thinking they'd like to have me. You see, I wouldn't have to go through the novitiate again, for they want an experie

Eliza came in, apologizing for havi

parents are. I suppose Mary has told you about our difficulties. Now, do you mean to

lt for me to know exactly what you want, but, so far as I

from the Academy? We mu

talk about her presently. Don't yo

he garden. And you, Mary-you've

own that Oliver wanted to speak pri

I assure

er hand to her

stopping the night with Father Higgins. It would be nice if

iver shoo

I must get b

etfully, like one who knows that the moment her back is tu

want to open a school. I hope that won't interfere with you

he Bishop will not permit a new foundation. It's very hard upon us Irish women if we are to be eaten o

't think she's

f she did, but it would give rise to any amount of talk. And w

hat she hadn't yet taken her final vows. I explained that no one wil

at weight off your mind, Oliver. I

brother and sister stood for some time admi

her to water

l me where I c

se me, Rever

that her dress had become entangled in the machinery. He didn't know, however, that the fault lay

ls piety I should call idleness. It's terrible to have to do with stupid women, and the co

a, you don

let us waste our time talking about vocations. I hear enough of that here.

er the whole story and showed her

ittle hard on Miss Glynn. Father O'Grad

on't want advice; I

e.' And the nun put out

that you always thought. It's i

would shelter her from any sort of criticism. I don't see why

eak, and after waiting a little while

e nun, waking from her reverie, '

wrote

willing to

didn't occur to me until afterwards, b

think she'll care to leave London and

Mind you, I am responsible. I drove her out of her cou

hat will trouble

you think that a woman cannot repent? that

on as we begin. Now, you see, Father O'Grady says that she's getting on

f you start with the theor

o the man was. She seems a person of character-I mean, s

l find no one like her, and you may be able to ge

cross the Revere

the new wing has cost u

are the Fr

s no use speaking to me about the French nuns. I'll engage her because you ask me, but I

but I suppose you can pay her an average w

walk up and down in front of the unfinished building. 'But you don't know,

offer her as much as she was earning in my pari

can afford, Oliver,

ank you. You've taken a

nt of the writing-table, the nun looked to see i

want, even sealing-wax,' she

ver Gogarty to

ICK C

e 4,

MISS

your name she began, "I always thought that-" and I begged of her to spare me advice on the subject, saying that it was not for advice that I came to her, but to ask her to help me to make atonement, which she could do by engaging you to teach music in her convent. You see, I had heard that my sister was in a difficulty. The new wing is nearly completed, and she could get the best families in Ireland to send their daughters to be educated in her convent if she could provide sufficient musical instruction. I thought you might like to live in your own country, now that y

to hear from yo

incerel

GOGART

sed him, and the geraniums so faintly red on the terra

li

took the letter. There was not enough light in the room to re

uite different. I should have written a cold and more business-like letter.' His

onstrative, and he wondered what had called forth this sudden betrayal of feeling.

nd comes back here, I will think better of her. It will be proof that she has repented. I see you'll not have a

iza. You alway

stand when you wanted to set u

he others. You have counted for a great deal in my life, Eliza. Do you remember

nun, one day or another I should be Reverend Mother; one knows m

r if Mar

, I wish she

more. You have no idea what a pleasure it is

walked slowly, forgetful of

ll r

it will be late

? Round by Kilronan or a

I'll take the other way. Th

ister entered

enjoy th

uthern road, the mountains unfolding their many aspects in